


Girl's Night Out

by swiftyfrisko



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir, gideon the
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swiftyfrisko/pseuds/swiftyfrisko
Summary: A Lyctor and her 'Bodyguard'. A night out on the town acting like 'normal young adults'.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Girl's Night Out

(This follows on from my previous fic “How to make the Universe More Great, More Hot” where 5 years after the events at Canaan House, Harrowhark resurrects Gideon in secret with the help of a sect of ancient, powerful sorcerers.) 

  
  


“Explain ‘Girl’s night out’ again Griddle. I’m yet to fully grasp the concept.” Harrowhark Nonagesimus demanded, leaning forward to give Gideon her full attention.

Receiving the full disapproving attention of the obsidian eyes of Harrowhark the First - Lyctor Prime, Queen of Bones and Daughter of Death - had been known to cause seasoned officers to create embarrassing dark patches on their spiffy white uniforms. Gideon rolled her eyes, sighed and looked away to catch a passing nebula, visible in the floor-to-ceiling window in their small but fabulously well appointed shuttle. Lyctors got all the best gear.

Gideon tried again. “There’s no ancient crumbling tomes. No studying.”

“Uh huh.”

“No practicing Necromatic arts. No training. No grisly death or dismemberment. Hopefully.”

“Okaayyyy…”

“No bones.”

“Hmmm.”

"Just you and me. We leave the pit…”

“That place costs a fucking fortune.”

“5 star pit. And go and do the kind of things normal young adults do on this planet.”

“‘Normal young adults’. This is the part I’m experiencing problems with.”

“I’ve researched this semi-extensively. We go and eat something. Not gruel or rations. We go to a different place and drink alcoholic beverages.”

Harrow looked quizzically at her. 

“Like mead and wine I think, but with decorations. Then we go to a different place and observe the natives at play as they listen to music.”

Harrowhark’s expression brightened as realisation dawned. “So... this is like a research assignment. An anthropological study.”

Gideon sighed again. “Yes, ok. Let’s call it that.”

“Can I take a volume or two along, in case I get bored?”

“No. No tomes, remember. It’s just you and me.”

Harrowhark sat back in her seat, swallowed up by its luxuriously bulky curves. She eyed Gideon suspiciously. 

“So what’s brought this on? Don’t you enjoy our little escapes? You and me. A suite. A big bed... What more do we need?”

“The last couple of times you had your nose stuck in those decaying flimsies from the moment we arrived and hardly talked to me. I spent most of the time in the gym and watching what passes for porn on that planet. Not that you noticed.” Gideon huffed. 

“Poor, poor Griddle. So starved of attention.” Harrow teased.

Gideon pouted and decided the view was more deserving of her consideration than the smirking black streak of a girl sprawled opposite. Wow, a Supernova remnant; super interesting. This was going to be more work than she’d anticipated.

\----

Gideon and Harrow walked briskly across the landing pad to a waiting land-car, an iridescent purple pod that shimmered in the midday sun. Harrowhark was hidden behind a dark veil that dripped from the brim of her absurdly wide hat, lest the suns rays disrupt her preferred complexion: ashen. 

“So. Girls night out.” Continued Gideon. “Go on, say yes.”

“It’s not so simple. I have huge responsibilities now Gideon.” 

“So do I! I’m your official bodyguard now, remember?”

“I still can’t believe we got away with that.” Mused Harrow.

“Told ya. Hair dye, contact lenses, zero snark, plus I'm believed to be deceased anyway, and our dirty little secret is safe.”

“You’ve demonstrated a talent for deception and reservoirs of courtesy I never dreamed existed. However, I’m not sure that's a real responsibility. I’m possibly the most dangerous woman in the galaxy. Armies soil themselves at the mere sight of me. And that’s just our allies. I don’t actually need a bodyguard.”

“You’re proving my point. The most dangerous woman - In - The - Galaxy. So guarding your fragile little body from harm is an incredibly important job. The responsibility weighs more heavily on me than you can imagine. Every night I lie awake thinking about your weak, feeble, but strangely appealing, form and how I can...”

“Enough!” Harrow headed off what she suspected was a slippery slope to one of Gideons sordid, inventive, but strange appealing, fantasies. “But shouldn’t we be keeping a low profile?”

Gideon sensed her crumbling resistance and went for the kill. “Oh come on. This place is almost 15 elys spinward of the most forward conflict point. Nobody here cares about the war. Most of these guys don’t even know it exists. That’s why we chose this place for our getaways.” She moved closer and curled her arm through Harrow’s lacy black sleeve to insist soothingly: “Live a little. You’ve earned it.”

They reached the land-car, one side of which obligingly unfurled into a myriad of overlapping petal shaped panels to reveal the interior. Harrow withdrew her arm and hesitated before entering, sighing in resignation. “I’ve more than earned it. Very well. Girl’s night out. How bad can it be?” 

Gideon grinned in triumph. “Harrow, you won’t regret this.”

\----

“Mmmmm!” murmured Gideon in what she hoped sounded like an approving tone, head tilted in thoughtful assessment of Harrowhark’s new outfit. 

“That bad?” groaned the Necromancer. 

“Not at all.” her cavalier/bodyguard assured her. “From the neck up you are as lovely as ever, my Queen. Below that it looks like a sea urchin was tarred and feathered and grew legs.” 

Harrowhark groaned. “It looked wonderful in the viewer. They said I should escape my comfort zone. Oh this is impossible, Griddle!” Harrow declared theatrically, slumping onto the bed that occupied the center of their vast suite, a maze of diffuse lights, translucent panels and minimal, organic looking curves that reminded the Necromancer comfortingly of bones.

“Leave this to me.” said Gideon, walking to Harrow’s luggage, open on the bed. “Your super-important Lyctoral duties leave no time for something as trivial as fashion. Let’s see what we have.” 

She surveyed the two open cases before her. “Wow. I’ve never seen packing like this in my life. This is art.” 

“My new assistant. She’s amazing.” 

“I feel like I should mount it on the wall and charge for admittance.” Gideon marvelled. “Not remove things and destroy their creative vision.”

“Please proceed. Petunia will have packed something perfect, I’m sure. She thinks of everything.”

“Petunia?”

“Assistant. She’s the best. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“She’s that blonde kid who’s always trailing around behind you?” asked Gideon.

“Hardly a kid. Isn’t she gorgeous? Everyone says so.”

“Yeah.” said Gideon heistantly “She’s a babe. So _she’s_ your assistant?”

“Yes! Pay attention.” Harrow laid back on the bed and gazed into space. “She’s so devoted to me. Hardly leaves my side these days.”

“Must be wonderful.” Gideon mumbled, pulling out something dark and cape-like before discarding it.

“Oh it is.” Harrow confirmed enthusiastically. “The war consumes me, so I’ve come to rely on Petunia totally. She lives to please.”

“Mmmm. Ok.” Gideon rifled through the contents of the case, leaving them in disarray.

Harrow rolled over to look at her cavalier/bodyguard with a concerned expression. “Gideon.” she said. “Am I sensing jealousy?”

“No. ‘Course not.” Gideon said curtly, holding up yet another black blouse for appraisal. 

“Oh my god. I am.” said Harrow in amazement. Who knew Griddle was capable of such things? She thought for a moment before continuing: “Well, how do you think I feel, with you off with the buff bitchy club all the time? Working out, training, comparing abs.”

“That’s the Buff Boss Bitch Bodyguard crew. B4. We have a hand-sign. And yeah, ok; they’re great to train and hang out with. But you know they’re not my type.”

Gideon picked out a black (surprise!) top that passed muster; a complicated arrangement of panels and straps of varying transparency and texture, and sat on the bed next to the Necromancer. 

“You know my type.” she said.

“Do I?” 

“I have an infinite weakness for demure…” She moved closer to Harrow.

“Vulnerable...” Touching now.

“Defenceless…” Hovering above her.

“Little waifs.” Close enough to feel her breath.

Harrow smiled. “You do. I cannot deny it. Some would say it’s your only flaw.”

“But.” replied Gideon. “I don’t know what _your_ type is.”

“Yes.” Harrow’s smile faded. “Me neither.” Her attention turned to the top in Gideon’s hand. “So this is your recommendation? I think it’s underwear.”

“It’s penumbrally perfect. You’ll look darkly devastating.” Gideon declared confidently. “Wait, Petunia packs your underwear?”

Harrow grabbed the top and rolled off the bed, pulling the sea urchin-feather dress over her head in one swift movement. “Come on Griddle! I’m hungry.”

\----

“I shall have the ribs. Full rack.” Harrowhark announced to the attendant waiter.

Gideon shot her warning look before making her request: “Tuna salad.” And then to Harrow, earnestly: “Have to stay in tip-top shape. _Responsibilities_ of the job.”, provoking an exaggerated eye-roll. 

“Outstanding choice, Griddle.” Harrow remarked, looking around the dimly lit space of “La Tombe Noir”, all exposed, crumbling brickwork arches, black ironwork and terminally unhappy looking statues. “Love the ambiance. Homely.”

“Took forever to find, but I live to please.” said Gideon. 

“Really? You?” Harrow laughed. “I had no idea.” 

A cloud settled over Gideon’s expression. Why was Harrow always so casually dismissive of her? “Difficult to notice anything I do, I suppose.” she said. “With so many attendants and hangers-on fawning over you every hour of the day, Harrowhark the First.” 

“What? Gideon, I’m teasing!” Harrow replied in confusion. ”Where is this coming from?”

“Nowhere. Sorry… I don’t know.” 

“This lack of self-assurance is most uncharacteristic. It does not suit you.” Harrow reached across the table, a concerned look in dark eyes.

Gideon took the offered hand. “Don’t worry about it.” She sighed and forced a smile as her adept watched her uneasily. “It’s only a matter of time before awesomeness resumes.”

“Good. I am positively salivating in anticipation of these ribs.”

30 minutes later, Harrowhark Nonagesimus’ plate had reached a state of optimum organisation. In the center were four large ribs, arranged in parallel, gleaming white, picked spotlessly clean. The untouched vegetables were arranged in neatly sculpted rows to either side. Harrow fixed her unblinking gaze intently on the ribs. 

“Harrow. Whatever you’re thinking… no. Please god no.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” she protested innocently, then sighed: “Can’t a girl have a little fun?”

“You forget, I’ve seen your idea of ‘fun’ with ribs. I still have nightmares about it.”

“Killjoy.” Harrowhark sulked.

The waiter arrived to place a small tray containing the bill exactly halfway between the two. 

Harrowhark and Gideon looked at the tray, then at each other.

“Your treat.” said Harrow.

“Mine?! You’re the high flyer babe.”

“I did bring you back from the dead.”

“Seriously? How many times can you play that card?” Gideon protested. “And if we’re going there, I did sacrifice my life to save you. And it was bloody painful. Plus you’ve told me loads of times that I saved your soul that night in the pool.”

“I must have been drunk.” Harrow muttered. “Fine, whatever.” she said as she picked up the bill, assessed it, and slapped a stack of hard currency tokens onto the tray.

As they waited for the return of the waiter, a girl in a red dress stood up at a nearby table and walked off in the direction of the restrooms. Her partner, a youngish, handsomeish man in a dark suit watched her leave and then moved across to Gideon and Harrow’s table, bending over it to smile down at Harrow who met him with unblinking ebony eyes. 

“Hi.” he started. “I just had to come over and say: you look amazing. I find your style and the way you pull it off incredibly hot. I’m impressed.” He glanced in the direction of the restrooms before continuing quickly. “Here’s my card. Call me. I’d love to find out more about you over a few drinks.” He presented the card to a bemused Harrowhark before returning to his table.

“Well what was all that about?” Harrow asked.

Gideon thought hard. “I think he was propositioning you. Strange.”

“You mean he desires a romantic or sexual liaison?” Harrow mused, examining the card. 

“But he seems to have a partner.” She continued, watching as the girl in red returned to their table. “And judging from his timing and furtive manner, he was concealing his approach, most likely because she would not approve of such a liaison. That’s an extreme betrayal of trust. I imagine it would cause her some distress.” Harrow scowled over at the man, who noticed and raised an eyebrow in recognition.

“Yeah, bastard. I bet he cheats on her all the time.” Gideon agreed. “But more to the point: he thought you were hotter than me?” She shook her head in bewilderment.

Harrowhark frowned. “You said that I looked lovely earlier.”

“And I meant it, but still…”

Harrow continued to glare at the man as Gideon watched her nervously. 

“If he knew what that look meant, he’d take his stake knife and finish himself off right now.” Gideon said and glanced over at him. He was miming ‘call me’ at Harrow, with thumb and little finger while the girlfriend settled the bill. 

“My. God.” Gideon marvelled breathlessly. “He has no idea how far out of his league he is. He’s competing with _me_.” She stood. “Forget the cad and let us go, my Queen. Drinks await.”

Harrowhark broke her gaze away and pushed her chair back to stand. “You’re right, Griddle. He’s not worth it.”

As Gideon moved away, attention on navigating to the exit, the Necromancer placed the card on the ribs, pushed it down with one thumb and whispered something eldrich and obscene. She caught Gideon up as they reached the stairs and took her arm, pulling her along faster, up to street level.

“I cannot wait to see what you’ve organised next.” Harrow announced.

“You’ll love it. It’s… ” Gideon slowed to look back down the arched stairwell, but the interior of “La Tombe Noir” was hidden. Sounds of breaking glass, screaming and crashing furniture could be heard. A waiter sprinted up the stairwell, pushing past them, wide eyed in panic.

“Come on Griddle.” Remarked Harrowhark casually. “Sounds like we got out just in time.” 

\----

“So how does this work?” Harrow asked dubiously, surveying the patrons and decor of “9 Black Cats”, a mixture of industrial chic and ethnic references that were way over her head. “I feel I’m rather out of my element.”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I’ve read up on this.” Gideon told her as she struck a dominating pose at the bar, snapping her fingers and pointing in a commanding fashion at the nervous looking bartender. “I am buying decorative alcoholic drinks. Then we shall sit and drink them. We will no doubt be interrupted by numerous requests for my sexual attention from this array of admirers...” 

She gestured expansively to the clientele of the bar, who continued to shoot glances at the contrasting duo, Harrow an angular pale streak clad in varying shades of black, Gideon an imposing presence in multi-hued fashion/athletic-wear that she hoped would coordinate with her hair. 

“...which I will reject brutally. You observe smug and safe in the knowledge that you will be the ultimate recipient of all this hotness at the end of the night.”

“It’s the best of both worlds.” she assured the adept.

“If you say so.” the Necromancer said uncertainly. 

30 minutes later…

“Come on! Another! Griddle, I had _no idea_ drinks could taste like this!” Harrow enthused. 

“Maybe you should slow it down a little, babe.” Gideon replied uneasily. “A lifetime of recycled urine and Crux’s fermented gruel hasn’t really prepared you for this.”

“Fuck off! Get another one. Your Sepulchral Majesty demands it!” Harrow dramatically slammed her glass down on the table. Did she just slur ‘sepulchral’, Gideon wondered? Perhaps this wasn’t wise. A sober Harrowhark Nonagesimus could constitute a deadly threat to the inhabitants of this city. A drunken one... 

“I’ll get it myself then.” Harrow swayed to the bar, finding a spot next to a guy who was finishing up buying two large glasses of something amber and fizzy. As Gideon watched, he looked sideways at Harrowhark, sized her up, and before walking off grasped one cheek of her black clad ass, and squeezed. Three thoughts hit Gideon’s mind simultaneously, which was two more than a comfortable fit: a) What a douche, b) Again?! I thought I was the only one that found Harrow’s bony ass appealing? But I’ll set this aside for later, because c) Oh. Shit.

As he walked off, drinks in hand, Harrow turned, incredulity quickly replaced by anger as she fixed coal black eyes on his receding back. The man stopped cold, his face a mix of surprise and alarm as his body no longer obeyed him and he struggled for breath. The temperature in the bar dropped rapidly and the room grew dimmer. Gideon felt a pressure building in her skull.

“Who - do - you - think.” Harrow breathed slowly in a furious whisper. “You are fucking with?” The man’s body started to twist, and his drinks fell to the floor, shattering but unnoticed by most of the crowd, who were more concerned with the sudden, piercing chill and intensifying pain in their heads. Ice started to build on the inside of the bar’s windows. 

Gideon moved quickly to Harrow’s side as the guy’s eyes started to bulge, gasping for air, twisting, frozen in place. Her ears were popping continuously and so much light was being drawn away that it was becoming difficult to make out her surroundings. People were either freaking the fuck out or wondering what was really in that pill. 

“Harrow!” Gideon shouted, grabbing the Lyctor’s shoulders, face level with hers. “Stop this! Now!”

Harrowhark’s attention broke from the man and her eyes met Gideon’s, expression changing from fury to dismay. Douche-guy collapsed to the floor, bystanders rushing to help as conditions in the bar returned to normal, though confusion levels remained sky-high. 

“What the fuck Harrow?” Gideon demanded, then softened as she recognised the fear in the adept’s face. “Ok. Easy. Let’s take it down a notch.” She collected herself before continuing. “You almost killed that guy.”

Harrow’s expression hardened again. “And? Why shouldn’t I? Why not kill all of them?” she said bitterly.

Shock hit Gideon. Did she really just say that? How much has the war changed her? “Harrow, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve probably done worse. That’s what monsters do, isn't it?” She looked away. “I know what they call me. Maybe they’re right. That’s what I need to be.”

“Well fuck ‘they’, whoever they are, and fuck whatever they call you.” Gideon took her hand. “I call you my pointy weasel faced Doll of Darkness. I’ve never seen you like this Harrow. What’s going on?”

Harrow turned, pain in her eyes. “What did you imagine all my oh-so important Lyctoral duties involve Griddle? What do you picture me doing on those front lines?”

“I try not to, to be honest.” Gideon replied. “More recently though I imagine you buried under a harem of willowy blonde assistants.” She looked around her, at the confusion and Grab-guy recovering with friends. “I think we better get out of here. I know just the thing. Music, relaxation, people watching.”

“Sounds good.” Harrow said, exhaling deeply, calming herself. “Music soothes the savage beast, they say.” 

\----

“I THINK MY RESEARCH WAS LACKING.” Gideon bellowed over the pounding dance beats. 

“YES. I AM NEITHER SOOTHED NOR RELAXED.” Harrow shouted in reply, avoiding the gyrations of a heavy set young man in board shorts and the remains of a nice shirt.

Gideon put her lips to Harrow’s bone studded ear. “Please do not slaughter the innocent bystanders due to your drunken agitated state. Some of them are very cute.” 

The Necromancer shot her a disapproving frown and replied. “I’m so over it. That was entirely your fault for plying me with booze anyway.” 

“Yeah, right. Come on.” Gideon replied, cutting a path through the mob. “Let us retire to a more tranquil spot.”

“A definite improvement.” said Harrow, once they had retreated far enough that the volume of the music was reduced to - for Ninth House denizens - acceptable levels. 

Gideons agitation levels were increasing as she looked around uncomfortably. “Sorry. This was a mistake.” She apologised. “This isn’t your kind of place at all. I don’t know what I was thinking. I tried…” 

“Don’t concern yourself. This is, after all, an experiment.” Harrow said matter-of-factly.

“I really did try. I did all my research. I planned it out. I wanted us to have a perfect evening together and it keeps getting screwed up.” Gideon sighed, disconsolate.

“Gideon, you’re acting strangely again. This is most atypical.” Harrow said. “Something weighs on your mind. Please share.”

“Harrow...” Gideon started, but was interrupted by a hand on her arm. She turned and found herself looking down into two baby blue eyes, set in a face two sizes too small for them, framed perfectly by straight blonde strands. 

“You look awesome.” The girl smiled up at Gideon, who was momentarily disoriented by the sudden and vicious assault of cuteness.

“It gets better. I actually AM awesome.” 

“Your eyes are incredible. Is that your natural hair color?”

Gideon glanced quickly at a frowning Harrow.

“That’s yes to both. You are both observant and blessed with good taste, and really rather charming. However, I should point out that my body and soul are sworn to another.”

“Goth girl? Oh that’s ok. I need your help, I’m in a bad situation.”

“Ok. Hang on.” Gideon turned to Harrow who was rolling her eyes, hands raised in a “what gives?” gesture. 

“It’s a waif in distress.” she offered by way of explanation and shrugged, then turned back to the cutie. 

“Ok. Shoot.”

“This guy won’t stop bothering me.”

“You want me to kick his ass?” At last, a problem she was equipped to handle. What were 8 hours a day of training with the B4s and Applied Violence classes for if not resolving issues like this? 

“No.” she laughed and glanced across the room. “Just keep talking. He’s watching us. You look so intimidating, but I knew you’d be nice. I’ve never seen a girl like you. How on earth do you get like this?” She squeezed a bicep. “You’re like a superhero.”

“Funny you should say that. I do have a mysterious origin story.” 

“Come here.” the girl beckoned, fluttering pale blue eyes.

Gideon stooped down, and the girl pulled her into a kiss. She tasted even sweeter than she looked, all peach lip gloss and a heady strawberry scent. Before she was released from the candy kiss, Gideon knew she’d screwed up. Big time.

The girl glanced across again. “That did it. Thanks! You really are awesome!” And danced off into the crowd, waving a farewell.

Gideon quickly turned to Harrow, aghast. “Harrow!” 

“You must be fucking kidding me.” Her face was a mess of dismay and fury. 

“Harrow, I’m sorry. She took advantage of me!” Gideon pleaded.

“You let her. You flirted. You were practically begging her to. I can not fucking believe this.” 

“I’m sorry! _She_ kissed _me_.” 

“I was standing right here, Griddle. Right fucking here. What do you do when I’m light years away?” Dismay and disappointment winning out over fury, eyes wide. Was that a flicker of fear on her face? That was even harder for Gideon to take than anger. 

“I don’t do anything. I really don’t. I fucked up. I’m sorry.” 

“We’re done here. I’m going home. You can stay and chase random bimbos since you’re so desperate for attention. Good luck.”

“Harrow. Please.” Gideon called, watching Harrowhark head for the exit in despair before following. 

A drive back to the suite in silence, opposite corners of the cabin, both studying the view. Harrow a bitter scowl, Gideon a mask of dejection. How badly had she screwed up? Would Harrow forgive her tonight? Unlikely. In the morning? Possibly. But even if she did, was the damage permanent? Had she sown a seed of doubt that would grow and rot the relationship from the inside, until someday, probably soon, Harrow decided that maintaining it was more trouble than it was worth, and better to be with someone that understood the pressures she was under. Maybe she was planning it right now, staring out the window, thinking about Petunia or some other girl who’d been sucking up to her, because there’s probably a shit-ton of them. You stupid bitch Griddle, with your stupid, stupid plans. 

Eventually back at the suite. “Cav’s bed for you Nav.” Harrow said, heading for the bathroom. 

“Whatever.” Grabbed a pillow, threw it on the floor, foot of the bed. 

\----

She was back on Electra-Prime. Harrowhark stood in the colorless, blasted landscape, shorn of vegetation, covered in ash and fetid black pools of chemical waste. A vast mob of indistinguishable dirty, grey people listlessly milled about before her, soundless, under oppressive low clouds. 

She saw the monster. Almost human shaped, 5 stories tall, a fusion of a million blackened bones and broken war machines, trudging through the crowd. Every few paces it would stop, bend to scoop up as many of the grey people as it could fit in its massive shovel hand and lift them high, to tip them into the pit where its neck should have been. 

She couldn’t see what happened to them, but she could hear: the grinding, the splitting, the splintering of bones and flesh. And the results: a mess of pieces of people turned to rubble, shat out of the machine to litter the battlefield.

The crowd seemed not to notice the monster. She was frozen in place, unable to react, only to watch as it scooped up another shovel-full and dropped them into the grinder. 

Did she see a flash of red amongst the falling bodies? Yes - the only color in the whole dismal scene before her. Had it been red hair? No. No. No... 

“Gideon!” she screamed with a force that broke the bonds that immobilised her. “Gideon!” she screamed as she stumbled and ran over the piles of human debris towards the monster, the noise of it’s terrible grinding filling the world. The chewed up pile of scraps fell to the ground and she scrambled to it on hands and knees, heedless of the monster looming above her, and clawed at the remains, searching frantically. She found it; an unmistakable shock of red hair, attached to fragments of skull, the rest lost under a sea of broken bodies. Harrow held it before her, unable to speak, unable to breath. The monster was gone. Everything in the world was gone. 

Harrow woke with a muffled scream on her lips and the feel of Gideon’s hair still on her fingertips. A crushing, foreboding anxiety forced her to sit and confirm the presence of her cavalier at the foot of the bed. No - gone. 

“Gideon?” she asked the silent rooms. No reply. “Gideon?” she called again. Nothing.

But then the memories of the day leaked back into her mind, pushing away dreams. The girl at the club, kissing Griddle, the row. She was supposed to be mad at her, so why was she scared instead? She knew the girl had surprised her with the kiss - the look of fear and horror on her face when she’d tried to apologise said it all, but come on, if a nice smile and pretty eyes can trick Griddle into that, what would have happened if she’d not been stood next to her? Griddle’s not unattractive, she probably gets offers, she might have taken them up already, is that what this night out is all about, her guilty conscience? Shit. It makes sense, it matches all her clingy anxiety, she’s guilty, what’s she done? Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Harrow searched through the suite. The thing was bloody huge, and really confusing - do these walls shift around on their own? 

“Gideon?” We have a sauna? Another living area? She’d never seen this. Where the hell is she?

“Gideon!” Shouting now. The fear of the dream rushing back. Was she still dreaming? Walking through dark unfamiliar spaces. 

“Gideon!” Screaming. Has she gone, left her? 

Finding herself at a balcony. The city spread out before her. And a familiar figure, familiar shock of hair, sat in a chair looking out at the night, feet up, hugging her knees. She’s here. Of course she’s here. Get your shit together Harrow. What’s wrong with you? (you know what’s wrong)

She touched the door to slide it aside and step out into the chill air, ran her fingers through red hair, kissed the top of Griddle’s head to bring back the dream and then banish it. 

Gideon craned her neck around to look at her. “Hey. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. I was calling you. You didn’t hear?”

“Oh. No, sorry. Place is sound proofed.”

“Yeah, costs a fortune.” Harrow said, settling into the chair next to Gideon. “I had a dream about you. A bad one.”

Gideon considered this. “Was I having sex with that girl from the club?”

“Different kind of bad. I couldn’t find you and got worried.”

“Harrow.” Gideon turned to face her. “I don’t screw around when you’re gone.”

“I know.” Harrow sighed. 

“Good. Sorry about the club. Bitch got me good.”

“Forgiven, idiot. You and your waif complex.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated before continuing. “Harrow…”

“Out with it. Please.”

“I’m worried recently. Some things are scaring me.”

Harrowhark watched her face, as Gideon gathered the strength and words to continue.

“I feel more and more peripheral to your life.” Gideon said. “You’re away doing all this super-important ‘Lyctor stuff’, with various attendants, hangers-on and assistants. And I’m stuck waiting, working out with the Bs.”

“I feel like I’m just hanging on to the edge of you by my fingernails.” The fears she’d hidden were on display now, in her voice, her face. “And at any moment you might shake me off and carry on and I’m left lying in the dust watching you leave and then… I have no idea what I am without you. You’re Harrowhark the First, Harrowhark the Great. What the fuck am I?”

Harrow left her chair to kneel in front of her and take her hands. “Oh Griddle, you great big buff idiot. You still don’t get it? Even after all we’ve been through? You’re everything, to me.”

“But Harrow, the hardest part....” And now the tears came, at last. “The hardest part is, I don’t even know if you’ll be back. What do I imagine you’re doing on the front lines? I lie awake at night trying _not_ to think of it. And when I finally get to sleep I dream of you alone and broken and dead some place so far away I’ll never know.” 

Harrow took her face in her hands and met her eyes. “I’ll always come back. I have to. I can’t do it without you. I couldn’t face it. All the shit and death and the war that never fucking ends. There’s too much of it.”

“These moments with you, they’re all that keeps me going. And I know It’s not fair on you, leaving you alone in the dark again and again. I’m terrified that any day now you’ll wake up, realise what a shitty deal this is and move on. And if that happens,“ Harrow pleaded. “I don’t know what I’ll do. There’s nothing else holding me up.”

Gideon bent her head to hers, resting against each other. 

“Harrowhark the Great.” Harrow choked on the words, emotion finally defeating her resolve. “He expects so much of me. They all do. I don’t know if I can be what they want. They drink me dry and use up every little piece of me until I’m gone and I just need to run back to you, so I can live again. Sometimes I just want to give up and fall apart.”

“Go on then. Fall apart.” Gideon breathed, voice cracking, wiping tears from Harrow’s face. “I’m here. I’ll fix you.”

They held each other while the city slept below, two girls lost in an endless night, drawing strength from each other, from the knowledge that their fears didn’t need to be faced alone.

Harrow shivered in the cool air and Gideon broke from the hold, to kneel and scoop up the adept, a slip of skin and bones, a girl that suffered and feared like any other but contained a power inhuman and huge and terrible. She carried her in, towards the bedroom. 

“Unhand me, Griddle.” Harrow said weakly.

“Uh, uh. This is the part where I spoil you rotten.”

She reached the bed and lowered Harrow onto it. “No planning this time. I think I can wing it.” 

Removing her underwear seemed like a good place to start. The feel of her lips touching the other girl’s skin, and of lips on hers, teasing and tasting. They moved together with an urgency that came with the release of fears and the knowledge time together was fragile, with no guarantees. They touched and kissed and fucked with an appetite that was driven by a love that had left behind the boundaries of death and life. 

The bed and the night stretched on and on as they explored the limits of both, and of each other. And Harrow was indeed spoiled rotten, as promised. More than once. Although Gideon’s planning hadn’t been half as bad as she’d feared, Harrow believed she was definitely a natural improviser. 

\---

Harrow stretched sensuously, languorously, on the bed, while she watched the first rays of the rising sun play on the ceiling. “I have a confession to make, Griddle.”

Gideon was sprawled on rumped sheets. “Oh god. I’m still processing the last lot.”

“Sometimes I’m rather glad of your smutty little porn habit. I suspect you’d be terrible at this otherwise.”

Gideon smiled. “I think you’ve picked up a few things as well.”

“I told Petunia I had a friend needed pleasing. That girl is amazing.” 

“Fuck. Off.”

And they laughed as the rays of the sun filled the room, bringing with them a brand new day, shiny with opportunities.

“Ok.” Harrow began. “You have successfully introduced me to the concept of a Girl’s Night Out. Rocky start but ultimately very satisfying. We have one more night here. Any more grand schemes you’ve been cooking up?” So asked Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Harrowhark the First, Queen of Bones and Daughter of Death.

“Funnily enough...” Said Gideon Nav, founder member of the Buff Boss Bitch Bodyguard crew, grinning from ear to ear. “...I have an idea...”

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end! Thanks!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. The story continues in "The Alchemists".
> 
> If you just jumped to the end, thanks for getting my hopes up :-/ Now go back and read - you might like it!
> 
> Update: did a fanart! Oooh. Hope to do lots more when I have an ipad and go digital. And after I finish some other fanfics.  
> Image + excuses for its weirdness at  
> https://theswiftyfrisko.tumblr.com/post/625317978063437824/a-quick-try-at-gideon-and-harrow-from-the


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